A Christmas Gift
by AriannaMalfoy
Summary: Lucius Malfoy is released from Azkaban on Christmas Day. Pure fluff inspired by a plot bunny that simply would not leave me alone. Probably AU, but happens five years after the final HP novel, so can't tell.


Disclaimer: If I owned this, do you think it would be called fanfiction? No? Didn't think so.

This is what happens when I listen to too much Christmas music and read fanfic at the same time. I have looked all over the net and I don't think anyone's done this, or I wouldn't post it; I can only hope that my ridiculous good mood has not made me write Malfoy senior too far out of character. This is pure, unadulterated, G-rated fluff; no cause for anyone to be concerned.

* * *

They released him on Christmas Day. The warden had him brought down to the office; he shivered as he left the pocket of warmth he had formed for himself in one corner of the cell. He could feel the cold floor against his feet through the now-thin soles of his shoes. He shivered again as he entered the warmth of the warden's office; he could suddenly feel his fingers again as the Aurors removed the manacles from his wrists. The warden stood; he held out a scroll of parchment.

"Happy Christmas, Malfoy," he said roughly. Lucius took the paper with a puzzled frown and unrolled it; what was this about? His eyes skimmed the words three times before he actually understood their meaning; it was an order of release. He was free – he could go home.

"How –?" he murmured, his voice creaky from disuse. He had been sentenced to fifty years; he knew that it could not have been that long already. The warden smiled grimly.

"Seems the Minister was feeling charitable; it's just past election year." He came around the desk; he was carrying a pile of clothing. "There's a Ministry representative waiting outside to see you back to the mainland. These are yours." Lucius took the sumptuous robes with shocked disbelief; he was really free. He could get out of these retched rags… the door shut behind the warden and Lucius hesitated only a second before changing, throwing the prisoners' robes into the fire. He unconsciously smoothed his hair, overlong and filthy though it had become. The beard, too, would have to go as soon as he got his wand back; hopefully before he saw Narcissa.

Narcissa… he had heard nothing of or from her since his imprisonment. Memories of her had kept him sane these seven years; the longing for her had been nigh unbearable at first, until he had learned to focus his thoughts on the future, rather than the past. He would be home in a few hours… he wondered if Draco would be there. He had never sunk to the level of begging for news of his son; he would not give the Aurors the satisfaction of seeing him break, and so he had no idea how his son had fared during the war. He had only known of Voldemort's defeat by way of the disappearance of the Mark; the feeling had been remarkable, as if something in the very core of him had been released from a powerful grip.

The Ministry representative entered the room with a scowl; apparently he resented Lucius's release, believing like most of his fellows that the Malfoy Lord deserved to rot. Lucius barely restrained himself from smirking in triumph; that would not endear him to anyone, and he had no intention of living in ignominy for the rest of his life. Instead he merely inclined his head and followed the man out of the office and then out of the prison altogether. They traveled by boat in sullen silence to the mainland, where Lucius was handed his wand with a jerky gesture.

"Lucius Malfoy – your sentence has been commuted to time served. The Ministry strongly advises you to view this as a second – or rather third – chance, and to use it wisely." With that the Auror was gone, leaving Lucius to his own devices.

Half an hour later, he found himself looking at the southern Wiltshire countryside and Malfoy Manor in all of its splendor. He could see candles lit in the windows; there was music coming from somewhere. He remembered what the warden had said – Happy Christmas. Oh, and what a Christmas it was going to be! A small smile formed on his face as he realized that Narcissa did not know he was coming; he checked over his appearance once more as best he could before beginning the journey up to the Manor.

Inside the Manor, the Christmas festivities were in full swing. Time-honored Christmas tunes were being played by a string quartet and the guests were singing along, mostly Draco's friends from school, but a few of Lucius's old friends and their families had come as well, the ones who had risen in revolt against Voldemort toward the end and thereby earned pardons. The Gloucesters, the Marlings, and the Thurkells were all in attendance, as were the Zabinis, the Parkinsons (much to Draco's disgust), and the Baddocks. There was only one person missing: Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa's husband and the Lord of Malfoy Manor.

It was their seventh Christmas without him, Narcissa reflected. She had thought she would be used to this by now; she had not, however, and only Draco's presence kept her from excusing herself from the gathering. It was, she thought, surprisingly difficult to sing of hope and joy when her husband was freezing in Azkaban.

Lucius entered the house quietly; he closed the door behind him very, very gently, and shushed a wide-eyed house elf into silence.

"Where is your mistress?" he asked, not wishing to take the chance that Narcissa would be out of the room when he made his presence known. The elf pointed toward the drawing room, from which Lucius could hear voices singing. He nodded, took a deep breath, and joined them.

They were halfway through God Rest ye Merry Gentlemen when a deep male voice joined in the singing. Narcissa's voice faltered; she turned, hardly daring to believe her ears. Her eyes searched the crowd, which suddenly grew quiet as the guests too heard the newcomer. Grey eyes met Narcissa's blue; the crowd parted. She took a few slow steps forward before, with a whispered "Lucius" that was almost a sob, she was running, landing in his arms. Strong arms held her; she was weeping into that wide shoulder and at last all was right with the world.

"Shh, shh, I'm here now. It's alright," he was murmuring. Draco had made his way over to them by now and was also embracing his father; Lucius gave a mental sigh of relief to see his son alive and well. He freed one arm to hug Draco.

"I don't have anything to give you I'm afraid," he apologized. Narcissa smiled tearily.

"You're enough," she said. Lucius smiled; the couple finally turned to face the guests, who had watched this display of emotion with uncommon tolerance. Thaddeus Thurkell came forward to shake the older Malfoy's hand.

"Good to have you back, Lucius," he said warmly. Lucius smiled, a genuine smile this time. It was good to be home.

"Shall we continue with the festivities?" he asked. The musicians struck up a new tune; Christmas was going to be good indeed.


End file.
